


Angband's hospitality

by Cirilla9



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gangbang, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Pre-Slash, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 04:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: Maedhros during his imprisonment in Angband





	Angband's hospitality

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Gościnność Angbandu](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14571771) by [Cirilla9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9). 



"What is going on here?"

At the composed, cold voice of the lieutenant the orcs jumped back from the prisoner as if stricken by a bolt, and Maitimo felt, the first time since the capture, at the sight of these gold eyes and a beautiful face - oh, how he cursed himself later for that! - he felt a glimmer of hope mixed with gratitude. That was the closest to happiness feeling he experienced over the past few years.

Mairon looked down at the horde of orcs and his gaze took on an intensity. The air condensed with his impatience.

The orcs shuffled nervously. At last, one of them, the chief of the band, stepped out and said coyly:

"We wanted, erh, play some."

Mairon looked at him with an unreadable expression. Maitimo never before, not even on the battlefield against the armored troops of the Noldor, saw an orc so scared. Then Mairon smiled and Maitimo shuddered.

The smile of the Maia was beautiful, white, shining, flawless, but never, never meant anything good.

Mairon moved, not toward the orc but the scared elf.

"You do not want to entertain our soldiers then, prince?" he addressed Maitimo in the tone of voice one would use to scorn a child for the table manners.

In his hand a conjured up rope materialized. Maitimo, with great strain, broke from under this almost snake-like paralyzing stare of burning eyes and stepped away but there was the wall behind his back.

Mairon nearly effortlessly stifled all his resistance, caught and immobilized his arms, rotating them backward, not giving Maitimo a chance to move and tore out a cry of pain from him. In moments he achived what several orcs couldn't manage for dozens minutes and Maitimo stood, face to the wall, with arms bound behind his back tightly. He shivered from exertion and growing fear.

Mairon stepped back. Maitimo looked over at him, instinctively seeking protection from a more powerful being because for all that Mairon was terrifying, his presence kept at bay another monsters.

"Now you should be able to pull it through," Mairon said gleefully.

With dread Maitimo saw how Mairon, with that same brilliant smile, gestures invitingly toward the orcs. They did not need to be told twice. They fell upon Maitimo like a swarm, abhorrent paws grabbed his twisted arms, clawed fingers scratched his sides, someone's damp palm clenched at his scruff.

But the worst were hands and fingers sliding lower, groping loathsomely at his buttocks, wedging between his legs, tearing the material of the pants.

"No," he said to Mairon. It was supposed to sound demanding; sounded pleadingly. But the unspeakable horror clouded his mind and he wasn't able to think about his pride, "please, no, don't leave me with them."

Mairon only smiled one more time, almost tenderly, then left the cell wordlessly.


End file.
